Freaky Friday With A Twist
by We'reTheOnesWhoWrite
Summary: Rick and Michonne's slow roll to the relationship they both want gets pushed forward when an innocent wish changes them in big ways.


**A/N: This story is brought to you by Richonnelvr218 and is based on a tumblr prompt from M00nlightandmagic. We hope you enjoy it.**

**Please be sure to check out her other stories on her FF page.**

**-We're The Ones Who Write**

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**Freaky Friday With A Twist**

"Mom!" Five successive raps rattled the bedroom door. "We need to get going!"

Michonne Grant rolled her eyes. Nearly eleven hours earlier, she got grumbling and whines when she was doing this, but now her ten-year-old couldn't wait to get to school and was rushing her. The power of a Halloween party or the "Bizarro Halloween Bazaar" as coined by the school. She had just finished adding the final touches to her costume, but decided to make Andre wait. See how he liked it.

"Mom!" Andre cried, continuing the barrage of knocking.

"Andre Anthony Grant…"

The knocking quickly ceased. Andre groaned. "Sorry, Mom, but hurry. Carl's dad will be there."

Michonne's ears perked up. "Carl's dad?" she said, pulling open the door. The father of Andre's best friend had an amazing ability to jump start her heart.

"Yep," Andre said with a grin.

She'd met the widowed Rick Grimes six weeks after moving to town, when they walked into each other while dropping off the boys on their first day of school. Their effusive apologies tickled Andre and Carl, making the youngsters fast friends. Since then, she and Rick exchanged pleasantries and had some phone calls about the boys staying over for dinner and sleepovers, but not much more. Losing their spouses was something they had in common. That and they both had careers related to law. She felt a spark with Rick. And for her, sparks had been non-existent for several years. Not since Mike.

The associate partner offer at Landsing Law Firm prompted Michonne's move to the thriving little city of King County and her fresh, new start. Things were going great, and she had hopes for better. She'd shared those thoughts with Sasha Williams, an old friend from the neighborhood where she grew up. She had lost contact with Sasha over the years, and happened to spot her at the grocery store the week she and Andre moved to town. The two quickly caught up. It was great having a close girlfriend to share things with. They were getting together tomorrow for their biweekly girls' day. Shopping, lunch, and pampering. Michonne smiled. She always looked forward to this outing. Seeing Rick tonight was probably the one thing she was looking forward to more.

Rick had a charming bashfulness about him. He was a sheriff's deputy, so it seemed out of place, but it was sweet, especially when he was trying to flirt. It didn't hurt he was so handsome. Those crystal blue eyes, curls of brown hair, and those bow legs. A shiver tingled Michonne's spine. Many men had approached her over the years, but she wasn't interested. Now she was. She really liked Rick.

"Hey." Andre frowned. "Why are you dressed like a pirate?"

"Because you are and costumes are required. We're the goodie-grabbing Grant gang, argh!"

"Good grief," he grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Michonne shrugged. Andre thought he was too grown up to kiss her when anyone was around, so his reaction wasn't that surprising. Her little boy seemed to think he was a big man. She stole a glance of herself in the swiveling full-length mirror. Even if Andre wasn't thrilled, she really loved her costume. Everything was covered, but the overcoat, pants, and long vest pulled off a nice sexy look. And while she liked the black suede tricorn hat, she loved the sword. Andre had an eye patch, hook, and parrot, but her costume had the best accessories. She couldn't wait to see Rick's reaction to it.

"Did Carl tell you his dad was coming?" she asked, trying to rein in her already runaway excitement.

Andre nodded. "Carl said he asked if you were coming."

Michonne's cheeks grew warm and there was no containing her smile. "He did?"

"It's what Carl said. His dad likes you, too."

"Too?"

"C'mon. Carl and I are kids, and we play it cooler than you and Mr. Grimes. You two need to start seeing each other already. Does the glow on your face mean we can go now?"

"Yes, wise guy," Michonne grabbed her purse from the dresser. "Let's go."

Rick Grimes drew a deep breath, trying to still the butterflies flitting around in his stomach as he scanned the growing crowd of costumed adults and children on the school yard in the hopes of catching a glimpse of Michonne. Following his best friend's advice was getting harder and harder, but Shane's words echoed whenever Michonne was near. 'Don't seem too anxious, Rick. Don't show too much interest, it'll make you look desperate.'

Humph!

He was desperate. Desperate to spend some real time with Michonne Grant. To caress her flawless dark skin that looked as soft as satin and kiss her perfect, full lips. Enough with following Shane's advice. His friend didn't know everything about women, even if he was practically Don Juan in comparison to Rick.

Meeting his wife when they were high school freshmen, she'd been his only lover. Her sudden death to a brain aneurysm when Carl was three was devastating. He'd grieved his Lori for a long time, couldn't bear to think about another woman, but now he couldn't stop thinking about one. He'd finally met someone that made him feel alive. He was alive, and he was going to live again after way too long.

Rick continued surveying the crowd. Almost everybody seemed to be dressed like a Marvel Universe hero. There was a DC Comics villain with the name "Bizarro," so maybe these costumes fit. Rick took the event title to heart and did the bizarre. He was a cop, so he came as an old-school mobster. A black pin-striped suit, black shirt with a shocking white tie, a black fedora, and a very fake-looking tommy gun completed his ensemble. Carl came as a vintage convict with the black and white striped shirt and pants, matching hat, and attached ball and chain. They were criminals tonight, and Michonne the defense attorney was just what they needed. And Michonne the woman what he wanted.

"You sure they're coming?" Rick asked, checking the pocket watch he'd added to the costume.

"Yes, Dad."

"It's five after six." He'd never known Michonne to be late. But, then, he didn't know Michonne like he wanted, and that was the problem. She was a busy lawyer. A client could've called. "Maybe they changed their minds."

"They didn't. Just ask her out already. You know you want to."

Rick blinked. Was he that obvious. "What do you mean?"

"I'm ten, and I can see what's going on. You two should start seeing each other. You both want to."

"How do you know she does?"

"'Cause she likes you." Before Rick could respond, Carl tapped his arm. "They're coming. Here's your chance, Dad."

The barely settled butterflies in Rick's stomach fluttered wildly as his eyes met hers. The chatter and laughter all around ceased to exist. Michonne seemed to be walking in slow motion, tempting him all the more. There was no hint of breeze, but it appeared her flowing locs were blowing as they framed her lovely face. He felt transported to one of those perfume commercials from his childhood, and he was the lucky guy who would be spinning his girl around in his waiting, loving arms.

While Carl and Andre greeted each other with their finger-snapping, hand-clapping handshake, Rick reminded himself to breathe.

"Looks like we were all having criminal thoughts," Michonne said with a chuckle, bringing Rick back to himself.

"Yeah," he said, thinking the real crime was how one woman could be so incredibly gorgeous. She had the most expressive, beautiful eyes. "You look amazing, Michonne. That's a great costume."

"Aye, me matey and I are 'eard tale of a booty of sweet treats." Michonne pulled out her sword, adding more effect to the pirate imitation that sounded more like Popeye the Sailor Man. "We're staking our claim." She returned to the plastic sword to the loop at her side, laughing. "Your costume is great, too," she said in her regular voice.

Rick grazed his knuckles against his chin. "Coming was an offer I couldn't refuse," he replied in his best imitation of Marlon Brando's Vito Corleone.

She clapped, smiling. "Very good."

Rick shrugged. "It was nothing." His impression was pretty bad, but Michonne like it, and that's what mattered. He'd keep doing it if it got him another smile.

"Can we look around?" Carl asked.

"Not without us," Rick said. "If that's okay with you, Michonne?"

"It's fine. Where are we headed?"

"The wishing machine," the boys said, pointing across the playground to a brightly lit display.

"Why do you boys want to go there?" Rick asked of the Madam Zina booth.

"It's different," Andre said. "A fountain without the water."

Rick glanced over at Michonne.

"It's Halloween," she said. "Let's go over to Madam Zina."

The boys insisted they make their wishes without the adults around. Rick thought an oversized Magic 8 Ball was a bit wasteful, but he would let the boys have their fun. He'd try to make his wish come true on his own.

"You think they're wishing for a teacher to turn into a frog or something?" Michonne asked, keeping her eyes on the boys as they whispered conspiratorially.

"With ten-year-olds, anything is possible." Rick drew a deep breath. This was his moment. He wouldn't push her or himself, they were both widowed and he was nervous as hell, but he would open the door and stick his foot in the crack. "Michonne, do you think I can - call you sometime?" Call her? Did he say really say that? Damn it, he wasn't ten. Rick wanted to kick himself. Shane and his annoying voice.

"Call me?"

"Yeah. Not to talk about the boys or like sleepovers, but to talk. You and me. Is that okay?"

Her face brightened with a smile. "Yes. That would be fine."

Rick played it cool, but he was cartwheeling inside. This was a start. "Great."

"It will be so," said an aged mechanical voice.

The boys pumped their fists. "Yes." They raced back to their parents.

"Our wish is coming true," Carl said.

"That's good." Rick smiled, happy that his dream was coming true, too. "This night is off to a great start."

An annoying, continual beep roused Michonne from her restful sleep. She groaned. What was that noise and why did it have to interrupt her dream when Rick was just about to kiss her? They had so much fun at the bazaar. She loved candy, chocolate was her weakness, but Rick's sweetness was better than any candy in the world. Could he call her. She snuggled back under the covers, intent on finishing that dream.

The beeping grew louder. She shot up. "Damn it!"

Michonne froze. She had a gravelly sleepy voice, but it had never sounded like that. The beeping blared on. Was that her phone? She reached out to her nightstand, but her hand went straight down as did her body to the floor with a loud thud.

"Ow." She gasped. Why didn't she sound like herself? She tapped the floor. Hardwood. Her floors were carpeted. With the exception of a few streaks of moonlight, the room was cloaked in darkness, but it was wholly unfamiliar. Where the hell was she?

"Dad, turn off your alarm!"

Dad? Was that Carl? Michonne tried to remember if she and Andre had followed Rick to his house. He wouldn't have to work hard to seduce her, that's for sure, but she clearly remembered going home and getting into her own bed - alone. Maybe soon, alone would no longer be the case. Then again, it took two and a half month for Rick to ask to call.

Realization struck. She had to be dreaming. It wasn't a dream she would choose, Rick wouldn't be MIA, but the subconscious did its own thing.

A door flew open and the loud stomping of bare feet moved to the other side of the room. The beeping stopped. "Dad, why didn't you stop the alarm?"

Michonne looked around the dark room. Was Rick in there? He couldn't be. He would've gotten her off the floor by now.

"What are you doing on the floor?"

Wait. Was Carl talking to her?

"Never mind, Dad, don't answer," Carl said. "You like getting up at six-thirty on the weekend, not me. I'm going back to sleep." The door closed behind him.

Michonne blinked. What the hell was going on here?

Carefully making her way to where Carl entered, she felt the wall and found the light switch. She gasped. Her hands were… They were too big and too pale. She touched her face. Whiskers. She felt whiskers. She slapped herself. "Michonne, wake up." That voice! It was Rick's. She was talking, but hearing Rick's voice. And the slaps, they hurt. She wasn't dreaming, she was wide awake.

She raced over to the mirrored dresser, fearful of what she'd find. And find it she did. Instead of seeing her own reflection staring back at her, she saw Rick's. She was herself, but in Rick's body. What did this mean? Where was Andre? Where was Rick?

Feeling panicked, she started pacing. "Take a breath, Michonne. Take a breath." She was talking to herself and hearing Rick. This was so crazy. Think. What did she know? She was in Rick's body, so it was likely he was in hers, which meant Andre was in good hands, and still sleeping if it was six-thirty in the morning. One less thing to worry about.

She was in Rick's body.

Rick's body.

She tugged on the waistband of the pajama bottoms and looked down. Wow! An urge to shower suddenly took precedence over everything else. More thinking could come later.

Clutching Michonne's locked cell phone, Rick paced anxiously in her bedroom as he replayed the events of the last ninety minutes. Like every Saturday morning, he woke up at six-thirty and walked blindly to the bathroom. But this morning, the ten steps that usually got him to the toilet didn't bring him to his destination, and the warm, sensual softness he encountered instead of his ready to piss boner told him something was very wrong.

The screaming brought Andre racing into the room, shouting for his mom. Thinking fast, Rick remembered Michonne hated spiders, and said he thought one had crawled on his foot, but it turned out to be the belt from her robe. That answer satisfied Andre, so he went back to sleep.

Once the shock of discovering his body had been swapped with Michonne's had worn off, Rick did what any man trapped inside the body of the woman he was wildly attracted to would: he looked, touched, and committed every glorious inch to memory. That hair, the booty, her breasts, and the heaven between her legs. He was seeing Michonne's body, but his all-man brain was in total control.

Feeling very relaxed after his slow, thoroughly explorative hour-long shower, Rick searched Michonne's large closet and chest of drawers for something masculine to wear, and settled on an orange sweatshirt and blue jeans. He sincerely considered going commando, but didn't think Michonne would approve if she got back into her body today, especially after his recent antics, so he found some underwear that looked like short boxers and suffered the torture of wearing a bra. The things women went through. Gratefully, Michonne had pairs of sneakers amongst her array of high heels.

Calmer and dressed, Rick tried to figure out how this change happened. He'd figured it had happened to Michonne and she was taking care of Carl, but had it happened to every adult in the world? He wanted to call his cell, but he couldn't unlock Michonne's and a cable issue had landlines down. So, he paced and hoped that her phone would ring.

"Mom?" Andre's quick knock and opening of the door ended Rick's pacing. "You still gonna make pancakes before going out with Ms. Sasha?"

Ms. Sasha? Michonne had plans with her friend? That couldn't happen. Rick cleared his throat. "I'm not sure, Andre." Hearing Michonne's voice when he spoke was so unsettling. He still felt like himself, even better than his old self after that shower, but this wasn't normal. And while there were things he could cook, pancakes wasn't one of them. "What if we go out to breakfast? We could see if Rick and Carl want to come, too."

"Cool. But what about your girls' plans?"

"Uhm." Rick shrugged. "I think Sasha will understand."

Andre smiled. "You really like Mr. Grimes, don't you?"

"I think…"

"It's okay, Mom. Daddy's been gone since I was in kindergarten. He'll be glad you found a nice man to see, and Mr. Grimes really likes you, a lot."

"He does," Rick said, speaking straight from his heart. "He really does."

"Did he tell you that last night? You guys spent a lot of time together."

"Not in so many words, but I said –" Rick cleared his throat. "He said he wants to call me." Last night, he'd decided the phone call would be an invite to dinner. A cell phone call, outside her door, with roses and him in a nice suit for a proper date. He didn't want to waste anymore time. Michonne was special, and they felt like a family last night.

"He's gonna start seeing you?"

Rick thought of just how much of Michonne he saw this morning and smiled. "He's already seen…" He caught himself. "Yeah, I think we'll be seeing a whole lot of each other." Especially if her morning was anything like his. "Are you okay with that, Andre?"

"Me? Sure! Mr. Grimes is great. He tosses the baseball with Carl and me. He makes me eat vegetables before getting dessert when we go out to eat. And he makes a mean chili." Andre laughed. "That's what he says. It's kinda hot, but good. He's kinda goofy, but in a dad way."

Rick treasured those words. Andre meant a lot to him, too.

Andre smiled. "The wish is coming true," he said.

"What?"

"Nothing. You ready?"

"Yeah." He wrapped his arms around Andre's shoulder. "Come on."

"Wait." Andre raced to the corner chair. "You're forgetting your purse, Mom. Your wallet and keys are in here."

"Don't want to leave this," Rick said, placing the strap on his shoulder. Ready access to Michonne's body had its benefits, but he wasn't cut out to be a woman. Whatever he found at his house, he hoped he would get some answers. "Let's go."

Michonne smiled as Carl wolfed down a second serving of French toast. She'd wanted to make pancakes, but Rick didn't have any flour.

"Mmm." Carl used a paper napkin to wipe the sheen of syrup from his lips. "You need to fall off the bed more often, Dad. This was really good."

"I'm glad you liked it," Michonne said, looking for any excuse to utter a few words and hear Rick's resonate tones. After that shower, she was in a really good mood. The most fun she had alone in a long time. If Rick had the ingredients, she would have cooked a ten-dish breakfast buffet. But bacon and eggs worked well. "Are you full?"

"Stuffed." Carl dropped the napkins on his empty plate. "I guess you and Mrs. Grant had a really good time last night."

"We all did, didn't we?"

"We aren't all making French toast this morning. I didn't think you knew what that was." Michonne stifled a laugh. Carl was a cute kid. "And you're wearing the pink shirt."

"It's salmon," Michonne said of the polo tucked in the back of Rick's bottom drawer.

"That's what Aunt Maggie said when you she gave it to you at Christmas. You only wear it when she and Uncle Glenn come visit, but I think Mrs. Grant will like it. Are you gonna see her today?"

Michonne nodded. If Rick's morning was like hers, he'd already seen plenty of her. "Would you like that?"

"I wish you would see her every day. Mrs. Grant is awesome. She's smart, and she's funny, and she can cook. I bet she's the one who told you about French toast."

"Yes, you can thank her for that."

"Did I tell you she loves Superman? I didn't. She loves him," he said, brimming with excitement that made Michonne smile. "The TV shows and movies. When I sleep over, she makes watching them fun. And she's nice and real pretty. I know you think so, too."

"And how do you know that?"

"The way you look at her," Carl leaned forward making exaggerated cow eyes, laughing. "That was you last night."

"Stop it," Michonne said, laughing with him. Carl was right. That's how Rick looked.

"It's true. I know you're gonna see Mrs. Grant today."

"How do you know?"

"'Cause me and Andre wi-"

"You and Andre what?"

Carl shrugged. "Nothin'."

Michonne considered implementing her extensive cross-examiner skills to discern what Carl wasn't saying, but getting back into her own body was far more pressing. This conversation was illuminating, but a little unfair. Carl was talking to his father, but Rick wasn't there. If her hunch was right, she knew where she could find him.

"While I wash up the dishes, you brush your teeth," she told Carl, mussing his hair. "We're going over to see Mrs. Grant and Andre."

"All right!"

The doorbell chimed as Carl sprang from his chair. "Grab the door on your way to the bathroom," Michonne said, uninterested in facing a stranger that wasn't one to Rick. She didn't want to deal with that right now.

"Okay." Carl scurried off to the door. "It's good to see you, too, Mrs. Grant."

Mrs. Grant? Michonne rushed out of the kitchen, and saw herself stroking Carl's hair. Yes, that was Rick.

"Mom, why did you kiss Carl?"

"Andre!" Michonne raced over when her son came into view, pulling him into a tight hug and kissing his cheek.

Andre stiffened. "Mr. Grimes, are you okay?" he said, softly tapping "Rick's" shoulder.

"Geez, Dad, chill," said Carl.

"I'm sorry," Michonne said, pulling away. Andre was too grown up to kiss her in public, "Rick" showing him such strong affection had to be stunning, but he was polite about it. She taught him well. "I'm glad to see you."

"You, too," Andre said.

Michonne cleared her throat. "And how are you this morning, Michonne?"

"Actually, I woke up not quite myself," Rick answered aptly. "But I'm feeling much better now. What about you?"

"The same," Michonne said.

"How are you this morning, Carl?"

"Great, Mrs. Grant," Carl said. "I just finished Dad's French toast."

"Your dad makes French toast?" Rick said.

"No, but he did this morning, and it was so, so good." Carl rubbed his stomach.

"My mom makes great French toast," Andre added.

Carl grinned. "She's the one who told him how."

"Mom didn't cook this morning."

"I wanted to see if you two wanted to join us for breakfast," Rick quickly offered.

"There's more left on the stove," Michonne said. "If it's okay, Michonne, Andre is welcome to help himself."

"That's fine."

The boys exchanged smiles, jabbing elbows. "Let's go," Andre said, dashing off to the kitchen with Carl.

"What happened?" Rick and Michonne said at once.

"I don't know," they answered.

Michonne pressed her hand to Rick's lips, which strangely were her own. "Is it just us?"

"I think so. I couldn't unlock your phone and the landlines are still down, so I couldn't call anyone to ask. But how do you ask that? I didn't hear anything on the news this morning."

"We need to be sure." Michonne handed Rick his phone. "You call a friend you trust and I'll do the same. We might be able to find out if it's just us."

"I'll call Shane," he said, handing Michonne her phone.

"I'll call Sasha. And you should wear this more often." She tugged on the salmon polo shirt. "It looks great on you, and complements your eyes."

Rick sat at the kitchen table eating the last of the breakfast, while Michonne finished up the dishes. The boys had gone upstairs to play video games. "I could have taken care of the dishes," Rick said between bites of toast. "You cooked this amazing breakfast."

"Yeah, looking like you. It makes more sense for Rick to wash the dishes."

"I doubt the boys will come down anytime soon, but if they did, I could've said I, Michonne, was washing out of gratitude for the food."

"It wouldn't be gratitude for anything else?"

Rick held the fork in his mouth several seconds before lowering it to the empty plate. He was hearing his own voice, but it had a distinctive coquettish quality. "Huh?" he said, choosing to feign ignorance as he chewed slowly. Looking at himself had never felt so unnerving. Michonne could see right through him…herself.

"I don't want things to be awkward for us, Rick." She retrieved his plate and empty orange juice glass, washing them. "But talking to you and seeing me is really…"

"I know." He nodded. "I know."

"I've seen you naked. I always hoped it would happen, but I was expecting it to be under slightly different circumstances."

"Tell me about it." Rick joined her at the sink, drying and placing the dishes. "But the circumstances weren't bad, were they?" Looking at her and seeing himself made this moment of honesty even easier. "Mine weren't."

"No, there was quite a bit of good for me, too. I didn't make all that French toast for nothing." She laughed. "I was feeling very relaxed in my confusion of this situation."

"Me, too. And, yes, I'm grateful. You're very beautiful, Michonne, and I'm extremely attracted to you, but I feel more than that. It's damn strange for me to be saying this to you now, hearing your voice speaking my words, and seeing myself. But at the same time, it's so…"

"Comfortable," they said together.

"Yeah," Michonne said. "This situation is confusing, but what I feel isn't. Not at all."

"At all," he whispered, drawing closer as she lowered her head.

The doorbell rang, interrupting their quiet, intense moment. They both muttered a swear.

"Maybe that's some answers," Rick said. "I'll get it."

While Michonne got settled on the couch, Rick answered the door.

"Hello there." Shane grinned approvingly as his eyes trailed up and down Michonne's amazing form. "Is Rick here?"

"Yeah," Rick said, it taking all he had not to smack Shane for his blatant ogling. "Come in."

Shane walked toward the couch. "Rick, I'm here. What's going on, buddy?"

"A lot, buddy," Michonne answered. "We're waiting for one more person to get here."

"Tell me now."

"No," Rick answered, crossing his arms. "It's a lot, and we're only saying it once."

"Is this Michonne, Rick?" Shane plopped down next to "Rick." "She's as beautiful as you said," he whispered, "but a little bossy. Kinda like you."

"Looks like it's just us," Michonne said. What she'd heard about Shane had lived up to the reputation. He was authentic.

"What's just us, Rick? What's going on here?"

The doorbell rang again.

"You're about to find out," Rick answered. "I'll get it."

"Why is she answering your door, man?" Shane asked. "I can appreciate the view, but did you propose or something?" His eyes brightened with happiness. "Is that it? Rick!"

"No," Michonne said, although she wouldn't mind if Rick did.

"Okay, but I know how much you like this lady, so it wasn't a stretch. Keep doing what I said. She's classy. You've gotta go slow to get her more excited about the chase. Unless... She's here, and you're... You're relaxed. Sex relaxed." Shane gasped. "Did you get some last night?" He laughed heartily, giving "Rick's" arm a sportive punch. "Go ahead, buddy. The seven-year stretch is over. All right!"

Michonne fought not to laugh. Shane wasn't quite on par, but he was close, and he was a character. She thought men only talked like this in those buddy movies. But she thought people only switched bodies in movies, too. The joke was on her today.

"What's going on, Michonne?" said Sasha Williams, her voice growing closer. "I got here as soon as I could."

"Come in. I'll explain everything," Rick said.

"My, it's raining babes today," Shane said, walking over to Sasha and kissing her hand. "Shane Walsh."

"Sasha Williams," she replied, grinning as broadly as Shane.

Michonne joined Rick next to the smiling, enchanted duo. Now there were no doubts. This change had only affected her and Rick, but four heads were better than two. Maybe they could figure out how to fix this together.

"You two should sit down," Michonne said. "We have to tell you something."

Shane escorted Sasha to the couch, his full attention on her. "I'm all ears, bro."

"Look this way, Shane!" Rick barked.

"Is she always so cuddly?" Shane laughed.

"I think we should add massages to our outing, girl," said Sasha. "You are worked up."

"With reason," Michonne added.

"Am I going to get an introduction? I assume this is your house and you're the Rick that Michonne's always talking about."

"That's just it." Rick said. "I'm not. Not really."

"You're not what, Michonne? I was talking to him. Why are you answering?"

"Because I'm him."

"What?" said Sasha and Shane.

"Something happened last night," Michonne said. "I went to sleep in my bed and I woke up here, looking like Rick."

"You are Rick, buddy." Shane stood. "I know it's been a long time for you, but did you hit your during the festivities last night? Bump the headboard?"

"Stop that, Shane!" Rick blasted. "There were no festivities."

"Michonne, calm down," Sasha urged.

"I'm not Michonne," Rick said, pointing at his form standing next to him. "That's Michonne."

"Yes," Michonne said. "I'm Michonne."

Shane scratched his head. "What the fuck?"

"Ask me something?" Rick said. "Anything you and I would know."

"Okay, Michonne. Old Ms. Jennings had…"

Rick groaned. "Sasha, I'm not, Michonne. Shane, you need to ask the question."

"I don't…" Shane stammered, looking from Michonne's form to Rick's.

"For God's sake. Last Tuesday, you and I stopped an old blonde lady in a yellow VW Bug, and you said she looked just like Mrs. Cranston, our principal from Burke Elementary. Cranston was like a thousand years old, but you thought she…"

"Rick, buddy!" Shane exclaimed, interrupting the little tale. He walked to Michonne's form, looking into Rick's eyes. "What happened to you?"

"That's what we're trying to find out," Rick said.

"Wait. You believe this?" Sasha asked, wide-eyed.

Shane nodded. "Yeah, I do now." He pointed. "That's Rick."

"It's true, Sasha." Michonne said. "You mentioned Old Ms. Jennings. She had a dog that was blind in one eye, Bandit. She lived in the white house on the corner, across the street from the Pruitts and next to the Bings. The Bings always had the best candy at Halloween. But one year, to everybody's shock, they gave out pe…"

"Pennies and unshelled pecans." Sasha stepped closer to Rick's form. "Michonne?"

She nodded. "'Yes. It's me. I'm Michonne."

"What!" the boys shouted from the top of the stairs.

"Dad, what are you saying?" Carl asked, racing down the stairs and stopping in front of Rick's form.

Michonne shook her head. "Carl, I'm not your dad. I'm Andre's mom."

"No," Andre murmured, coming to Michonne's form.

"Yes," Rick said. "Carl got French toast this morning. Your mom is the one who makes French toast. I make chili and steak. When it looked like your mom was kissing Carl, it was really me kissing Carl. For some reason, that we're trying to find out, she looks like me and I look like her."

"It was the wish."

"The wish?"

"We wished to Madam Zina that you and Mr. Grimes…" He pointed at Rick's form. "That he and – She… That you - Oh, man." Andre covered his face. "We wanted you to start seeing each other, get married, and then we'd all be a family."

"She said our wish would be so," Carl said, "but something went wrong."

"That can't be it," Rick said. "That was some carnival game."

"I don't think we're in a position to question it," Michonne said. "I am seeing you." She whispered in his ear. "I've seen a lot of you."

"We need to get to this machine."

"Yeah, we do."

"Are we sure this is right?" Michonne asked, following Rick through the gates of the industrial park. After three hours and four different locations, they hoped they'd finally found the elusive Madam Zina machine from last night to make a new wish and get back into themselves. "This place looks abandoned."

"It's the address the rental company gave us." Rick pointed to a small warehouse just to the far left. "Fairway Games and Rides. That's it."

They walked hand-in-hand toward the vinyl building. The cobweb-covered door crept open.

Michonne looked at Rick. "Automatic door," he said, answering before she asked, although he didn't sound too convinced. "Let's do this." They walked inside.

Darkness, warmth, and the scent of freshly cut grass filled the space, like midnight in summer. The faint, eerie sound of a calliope erased the quiet and grew progressively louder. A flicker made way for a burst of bright translucent lights that spelled out the name Madam Zina on the wall in front of them.

"I've been waiting for you," said the mechanical voice from last night, the lights dimming with every syllable spoken.

"You've been waiting?" Michonne rolled her eyes. She was talking to a wall. This had been a day.

"Yes, I've been waiting. As have you. You are the wish you seek."

"Oh, boy." Rick cleared his throat. "Look, Madam Zina, or whoever or whatever you are, we don't want riddles. We just want to be us. You gave our sons a wish that was more than they wanted, it's a problem, so things need to go back to the way they were."

"To go back, you must go forward."

"He said no more riddles," Michonne stated flatly, her annoyance at a threshold.

"There are no riddles in truth. The wishes are the same. You are the key. Move forward to go back." The two lines that spelled out Madam Zina's name on the wall separated, opening to a hidden room. A very pitch black box of a room. "Move forward to go back."

Michone scoffed. "I'm not goin' in there."

"You must move forward to go back."

"And then what?" Rick asked.

"Then, your wish will come true."

Michonne whimpered. The age of this building and darkness of that room was a recipe for cobwebs and spiders. Not a lot frightened her, but she hated spiders. It should be enough that they came into this creepy excuse for a structure. Why couldn't they just get their wish?

"It's okay," Rick said, linking their fingers. "I'm right here. We're together. We can do this. I've seen you, Michonne, and I know what's in you. How strong you are. This is nothing."

Michonne's apprehensions fled. "You're right, Rick, we can." They were together. Rick had been with her, a part of her, all day. He'd been a part of her for a long time. She jiggled his hand. "Let's move forward."

Once inside the room, the wall slammed shut, closing them inside. Each went for their phones, but they couldn't get them to work. This would've been the moment to panic, but Michonne was undeterred. The answer was here, she could feel it, and Rick's inspiring words had her convinced they could find it. "We'll have to feel our way around," she said.

"You sure?" Rick asked. "There could be spiders in here. I know you don't care for them."

"No, I hate spiders, but I'm not afraid." She squeezed his hand. "Not with you."

"All right." Rick kissed her hand. "Let's keep going." They took tentative steps forward. "We have to find the machine soon. This place is only so big and - Whoop!"

Rick's foot caught on something, abruptly ending his words, causing him to stuble forward with Michonne. He landed first, and Michonne right after. They were face to face, on their sides. Each feeling the other's breath on their face. They didn't need light to know they were on a bed.

"I've been falling for you for a while, but I'm not this direct." He sighed. "But maybe that's the problem."

"Rick?"

He moved closer to her. "Michonne, for a long time, I thought my wife was it for me. When she died, I was heartbroken. Lost in darkness as black as this room. Darker."

"I know that feeling. It's like trying to live and breathe with a gaping hole in your chest. Mike and I met when we were eight, and for twenty-two years he was everything. And then one morning I woke up, and he didn't. His heart that was so full and giving had given out. I never imagined I'd meet someone else. That person who would make me…"

"Laugh? Smile? Feel?" Rick's arms tightened around her. "Need?"

"Yes," she whispered as his warm breath drew nearer, tempting her lips with promise and passion. "Yes."

"I want us to be an us, Michonne. To see the future together."

"Me, too, Rick. I want that, too."

In the darkness, their lips touched. The kiss so soft, so delicate, so right.

Soon they were naked and their bodies one. Their touches, deliberate and purposeful, answering the unspoken call of their needs and desires. Giving and taking, they put to practice the knowledge of their own bodies and pleasures to the solo discoveries they'd made of the other this morning. Discoveries that brought them to satisfying mutual release.

"It is so."

Too breathless to move, Rick and Michonne held each other as light filled the room, chasing away the darkness. Rick blinked and blinked to ease the sting of his burning eyes. Soon the object of his affections came into view. "How are you?" he asked.

"How do I look?"

"Mmm." He lips seized hers. "Absolutely beautiful."

"We got our wish." Michonne chuckled and his heart swelled. Her laugh, like her smile, was like sunshine. It chased all the darkness in his life away. Her fingers raked his curls. "Moving forward to go back."

"We had to make love. Progress in our relationship to get back to ourselves. To who we're supposed to be. To our life together with the boys." Rick nestled her close, kissing her forehead. "The outer room, the warmth, the smell of grass, it represented summer. When we met. Then the light came. What you were to my life."

"And you to mine."

"I love you, Michonne."

"I love you, too, Rick" she said with a kiss. "We have forever now, and the boys have their wish. We have ours."

"Yes," he said. "It is so."


End file.
